So, when we last left our intrepid heroine (me), two coworkers were no longer working at her agency, so her team was down two people.
On Saturday, I went on a date with a guy I’d really started talking to on Valentine’s day. It went fantastically, and we’re now dating. He sent me flowers at work yesterday, just because. I’m pretty head-over-heels for him, which is utterly terrifying because we all know about my mortal fear of failure. I also have the habit of using bipolar disorder as an offensive weapon to keep potential boyfriends away, so I was very careful not to do that, though I made sure he was aware, seems how it doesn’t define me (at least I try not to let it,) but it is a part of me, a large part, that will never go away and that colors a great deal of my life. He simply took my hand and said it was okay, and that he wasn’t going to run away.
Tonight, I had a long, drawn-out talk with my roommate, where she unloaded a year’s worth of grievances (she’s getting better; usually it all goes back several years) and we talked it through. I suck at being happy for people. I always have some slightly bitter, sarcastic retort, and it hurts. I apologized and will work harder not to be so snarky and defensive.
She mentioned that she and her boyfriend are talking about marriage, and possibly getting engaged in the next month or so. I… guess I need to find an apartment a bit faster than my current pace.
All this change, and I’ve not yet freaked out. I don’t know if it hasn’t sunk in yet, or if I’m just coping better in general.
…I’m afraid to find out.